The last few weeks before the graduation ceremony had arrived like a slow-moving storm — heavy with anticipation, threaded with nerves, and humming with the kind of silence that meant something big was coming.
For Alex, every morning felt a little shorter, every sunset a little too golden to be real. Time had become slippery, like sand through his fingers, and no matter how tightly he tried to hold onto it, the days kept falling away.
He sat by the window of their penthouse, one leg tucked under him, watching the first streaks of sunrise bleed over the city. The view was breathtaking — skyscrapers kissed by dawn, the light catching on the glass like molten gold — but Alex couldn't shake the ache in his chest.
Behind him, the faint rustle of sheets made him turn.
